As my finger tips slip from the cold gold door knob, I know I’ve left for good. The warm brown wood of the front door stares me down reminding me of what I’ve left. My eyes glance over the cream colored house, the lights are still on filling the rooms with an orange colored hue.
“Goodbye, it was a good run. But nothing good ever lasts.” My words come out soft and sentimental. I turn my back on t...